


Until the Flowers Close

by VulpesVulpes713



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And then it's, Happy Ending, Laith, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), Post Season 8, allura but like universe mode, implied nsfw, klance, klance fluff, the ending they deserve, until the end, vld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17580461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes713/pseuds/VulpesVulpes713
Summary: The canon we deserve.





	1. Chapter 1

It happens slowly, as most things do. Or maybe it’s just that, after the war, time passes differently.

There’s no rush. No time counting down.

It’s peaceful, if Keith could describe it in a word.

Granted he’s still busy. People all over the universe need help. And not just with post-war initiatives, but with trade agreements, diplomatic meetings, and general humanitarian efforts.

He plays an important role, as all the former paladins do, but still.

It’s peaceful.

Not as peaceful as Lance’s farm however, which Keith arrives at via taxi just as the sun is setting behind distant hills.

It’s easily one of his favourite places on Earth. Calm. Quaint. It reminds him of a dream he had once. A distant memory perhaps. Whatever the case, Lance’s farm is the closest thing Keith has to a home on this planet.

He pays his driver, gathering up his bags as he breathes in the cooling air. The pink blossoms - Allura’s flowers - that speckle the lawn are closing for the night: lethargic and almost hesitant, like watching a child slowly close their eyes to sleep despite murmuring softly about staying up late.

He smiles, something that comes easy to his lips now, and heads towards the front door. A porch light turns on, and the sound of barking can be heard from inside.

And then something heavy lands on Keith’s shoulders as he recalls how he’d asked Lance to take care of Kosmo while he was away on his most recent mission, and tumbles forward as his massive wolf begins licking eagerly at his face.

“Woah, hey bud-” he’s cut off as slobbery tongue bypasses his mouth, and begins coughing as he chokes on dog drool. “Gross! Get off you lard-”

Kosmo obliges, but not in response to Keith’s request. Rather, it’s the sound of Lance’s laughter that has both boy and his pup looking up at the doorway in surprise.

Because there he is: surrounded in the warm glow of the porch light and smelling of cinnamon and baked bread, wearing an apron with less floor on it than those rosy cheeks.

“Lance…”

Breathless. That’s how Keith feels whenever he’s with him. Whenever he comes back to Earth on his breaks and spends weeks at a time performing the mundane duties of farm work.

Breathless. Because he can never get a proper lungful of air around Lance. Has never been able to. And yet, at the same time, it’s as though his head has never been clearer.

Breathless. And happy for it. Because only Lance makes him feel this way. Even after all these years.

And this time…this time Keith will tell him.

“You’re back,” Lance chuckles, reaching a hand down to help him up. He takes it after a moment, knowing his hair is messed from Kosmo, that his cheeks are red and burning, and that his grin is wide and unyielding.

He doesn’t care, because it’s Lance. He only has room in his heart for happiness. Joy. Unadulterated giddiness. So he takes the offered hand, and feels a subtle buzz run through his fingertips and up his arm towards his chest.

“Welcome home,” Lance goes on, hand lingering and smile growing brighter.

“Yeah,” Keith replies, breathless - because Lance is breath _taking_  - and basks in the warmth he radiates. His own personal sun.

The flowers on the lawn have closed: dormant now without their main star, but Keith feels alive and energetic. He’s sure if he had petals of his own they would begin to unfurl in response to Lance’s beam: thriving and greedy for more, wondering how they’d lived so long in the dark of night.

Breathless.

And he’ll tell him this time. Because it’s as Lance said. He’s back. And it feels right. And even if Lance isn’t quite ready, Keith will wait patiently until he is.

So long as he’s with him, everything will be alright.

So he laughs, and squeezes their fingers tighter as he leans in for a hug.

“Yeah. I’m home.”

Because it happens slowly: this falling into love. And Keith’s been falling for a long time.

Not that he minds. Falling for Lance is easy. It’s addicting. It’s what Keith wants to do for the rest of his life. What he’s  _been_  doing for most of it.

So this time he’ll tell him.

And until then he’ll remain breathless, soaking in the rays of Lance’s light for as long as he can: until the sun sets and the flowers begin to close.


	2. The Night he Asks Permission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Likely a continuation of the previous chapter, but at a later date.  
> They felt like they kinda went hand in hand.
> 
> Based on [this](https://itsthearthipelago.tumblr.com/post/182365635936/asking-her-permission)

He finds himself at his old shack, the night he asks permission. 

The sky is clear: galaxies bright and stars dazzling, as they typically were back when he lived here. How many dusks had he witnessed at this spot? How many dawns? How many hours had he spent under this very sky, blanketed by a universe he’d once thought to fear?

_Too many,_  he thinks, and finds himself smiling as he gazes up at the heavens.  _But not anymore._

He sits on a stone overlooking the desert - surface worn smooth from use in the past - and focuses on the shadows between the bright lights above, knowing their emptiness, familiar with their secrets. How many years did he spend up there, lost in those gaps? How many moments did he wish for a light on the horizon, or a horizon at all? 

The answer is the same as before, and Keith sighs as he lowers his eyes to the ground, fiddling with an object in his pocket.

It’s cold to the touch, but warms quickly beneath his fingers. Smooth, like the rock on which he sits but of a different material. Metal, forged from a tree on a planet hidden in those stars above. He brushes over a small indent on the surface, and hears the contented sigh in his heart as he pictures how the tiny coloured stones will look against dark brown skin. Blue, red, and a purplish pink: symbolic in too many ways to count.

His smile grows fond, and he inhales deeply to calm his nerves and lifts his head upwards once more. 

But he finds himself breathless, the night he asks permission.

He’s swallowed in the cosmos: wondering if it’s truly the sky he’s staring at, and not a masterpiece of watercolours and black ink. Space is a work of art when viewed from afar, and Keith feels his pulse calm as he pictures the one wielding the brush.

And with that he stands, keeping his grip tight around the ring in his pocket.

“Hey, Allura,” he murmurs softly, feeling an awkwardness descend. Though rehearsed in his head, the conversation he’d practiced slips from his memory, and for a moment it’s all he can do to stare up unblinkingly at the Milky Way.

He falters, biting his lower lip as he searches for the words.

“Um…how-uh…how are things? I have…a-uh- favour? No…more of a question I guess-”

_Ack!_ he curses, wincing at how evident his hesitation is.  _Stupid! It’s not like she can-_

But his thoughts are silenced as a dainty trail of starlight shoots across the canvas above, and relief floods into Keith’s veins as he watches. It’s gone after a second or two: fading from existence as if it had never been there at all, but Keith saw it, and he feels his lips twitch upwards in response.

And then he’s laughing, oddly enough, as if knowing exactly what Allura is saying.

_‘Carry on, Keith. I’m listening.’_

So he nods, clearing his throat before continuing.

“I…I just wanted to say that I’m glad I met you, and knew you. And I know that I never said it much when you were here but-” he blinks, feeling emotion welling up and gathering in his jaw, which begins to ache as he goes on. “I just wanted to thank you, for being who you are, and doing what you did. And for…for making  _him_  happy.”

He pauses, fingers tightening around the ring he carries.

“Lance is an incredible person, as you already know. He’s my strength, Allura. He’s the reason I smile in the morning and laugh before bed. I’ve…I’ve grown to rely on him, to depend on him. I-” he huffs, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

It’s harder than he thought, saying these things aloud. And he thinks maybe it’s because the words hold so much truth, and speaking them only works to re-enforce how he feels.

He knows what Lance means to him. He’s known it for quite some time. And though he’s sure that the universe is already aware of his thoughts, he confesses them regardless

“I need him, Allura. I…I  _love_  him. More than I’ve loved anything in this world. And loving Lance is like breathing clean air, or feeling warmth after knowing nothing but cold. He’s life, and he’s joy and happiness and – and he’s the sun. I need his light, just as you did. But…” he trails off, lowering his gaze as a tear slides down over his cheek.

Because now comes the hard part: the moment of truth. The real reason he’s here in the desert, at the shack he’d called home.

And he finds himself hesitating, the night he asks permission.

“I feel guilty, Allura,” he whispers, not daring to look up. “I feel so  _immensely_ guilty every single day. I feel like I’m stepping into a spot that wasn’t meant to be vacant, and even when he reassures me that it’s okay, I still worry. Because it’s not fair, that I get to see him, and be near him, and watch him smile and hear him laugh and bring light to everyone around him. It’s not fair because it should be  _you_. It  _was_  you, and then you…you sacrificed yourself, for us. All of us. And-”

He coughs, emotions welling up in his throat, making talking difficult, but he needs to go on. He’s gotten this far, and the stars haven’t blinked away yet so he thinks Allura is still up there, hearing him confess.

“And it’s not  _fair_ to you,” he pleads, “that I get to be happy because of Lance. It should be you down here, with a ring in your pocket and a hope for the future. Not me. But I’m selfish, and even though I’ve said all this I still plan on asking him to stay with me forever. Because I’ll die without him, Allura. I genuinely will.”

He exhales, steeling himself as he wipes the wetness from his face, and focuses on a particular star that’s glowing brighter than the rest. Maybe it’s just his imagination, or a projection of his thoughts, but he’s certain there’s a faint rosy outline pulsing lethargically around it.

And staring at it brings him ease, bathing him in a subtle pink light that no one else would be able to see.

So he finds himself smiling, the night he asks permission.

“I’m going to ask Lance to marry me, Allura. And I’ll make him happy. I’ll treat him right, and cherish him until my dying breath. I’ll love him as you did, and keep him safe, and keep him smiling. I need him, and I think…I think he needs me. So, if you’ll allow it…if you’ll let me try…will you-”

But he never finishes his request.

He never gets to ask permission, as he’d intended all along.

The sky darkens for a brief, terrifying moment, and right when Keith thinks he’s about to be smote from above, an array of vibrant colours streams out from that the star he’s been focusing on, as if someone had spilled paint on a watered-down surface.

Waves of pink aurora dance across the horizon, tangling with turquoise bands to create distinct lines of colour that coil around each other and blend only now and again. It’s miraculous to watch, and Keith’s breath hitches as he stares wide-eyed as the colours reflect across the landscape.

He watches as rose and sea glass mingle and twist, and it’s beautiful but fleeting. He tries not to feel remorse as pink slowly begins to fade, leaving the sky in stunning variations of sapphire and teal. And for a long moment that’s all there is, until a hint of deep red can be seen growing from within the blues: glowing brighter and brighter until a strong line of crimson appears amongst the ocean hues.

And when the colours dance they do so in synchrony, unlike the pinks from before. They’re harmonious and tuned: when blue rises so does red, and when it sinks streams of ruby pick it back up. But it’s when the colours begin to mix that really has Keith forgetting how to breathe.

A vivid violet emerges from the reds and blues, starting small but growing with haste, until soon space is more lilac than black. And he stares up at it, watching as it sways in the sky with the stars, bordered by thin threads of the colours that birthed it.

He’s reminded of the ring in his pocket, and when he laughs he does so with gusto, going so far as to throw his arms in the air and spin on the spot: giggling and shouting under a canopy of purple.

Because  _this_  is his answer.  _This_  is what Allura has to say in regards to his request.

And Keith couldn’t be any happier.

“Thank you!” he cheers, slowing to a stop and plopping back down on that familiar stone. He’s dizzy: either from the spinning or the euphoria, but he welcomes it. He takes the ring –  _Lance’s_  ring – out of his pocket and brings it to his lips, kissing it once as he stares up at the heavens: up at Allura in all her glory.

“Thank you,” he repeats, barely a whisper in the night, and tears soak into the ground below. _“Thank you.”_

He’s relieved, the night he asks permission.

And he rushes home under a sky warmed by the rising sun, eager to start the rest of his life with the man the universe loved. Purple fades away with the dawn, until all that’s left is a single star on the horizon, glowing brighter than the rest as it pulses once in pink, before blinking out of existence.

Keith never sees it again, but he knows in his heart that it’s still there. That  _she’s_  still there, looking down on them from above.

Because the galaxies were smiling, the night he’d asked permission, and they’ve been smiling ever since.


	3. Blessed by the Heavens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this](http://arta--ja.tumblr.com/post/182785721192/comic-commission-for-newtrino92-on-twitter)

 

He’s ready.

 

Has been for a while now really, but today is _officially_ the day he does it. He’s asked their closest friends to be there with him - the ones who have been through everything with him - and smiles knowingly as he glances around the table at their faces.

 

Hunk avoids his gaze, which is probably for the best seeing as how he’s already struggling to contain his excitement. Pidge shoots him a wink, ready to distract when the moment comes. Coran and Krolia couldn’t make it, but there’s a spot reserved for them anyway. And Allura….well, Keith knows she’s looking down at them with a smile, if the lavender sunset outside is any indication.

 

Keith’s eyes dart over to Shiro, who has the best poker face of the group, though he’s careful to keep his hand under the table where the marker smudged on his fingertips. Keith can still feel the cold lingering pressure of the words being scrawled across his forehead, and he steels himself one last time with a quick inhale as Shiro shoots him a subtle nod.

 

Because today he’s ready.

 

Today marks the beginning of the rest of his life.

 

Today, he proposes, and with a quick gesture at Pidge, it begins.

 

“Check out this photo I took us yesterday,” she takes out her phone and shoves it Lance’s way, who looks over with interest. He’s sitting across from Keith, just as arranged, but a moment like this was needed in order to pull out the small box he’d been carrying around for the past month without Lance noticing.

 

It goes smoothly, and he rests his arm on the table with practiced ease, making sure to keep the movement fluid and relaxed. Hunk makes a small noise as he watches, and Keith can feel Shiro send him a look.

 

But he ignores everything else as his gaze focuses on Lance.

 

And for a moment that’s all he can do. He’s enraptured by Lance. Absolutely captivated. And each time their eyes meet it’s like tiny fireworks squealing and exploding and fizzling away in his rib cage, only to repeat until the darkness within is lit with dazzling colours.

 

Lance is beautiful, in all aspects of the word, and Keith feels his smile grow as he imagines a life where he can spend every waking moment appreciating all that he is.

 

But to start those moments means ending this one, and as Lance moves to drink from the glass of water he holds, Keith does just that.

 

“Hey Lance,” he calls over, pushing back his bangs with one hand while the other pops open the lid to that box, revealing a silver banded ring with stones blessed by the heavens herself. “Is there something on my face?”

 

It’s slow motion, the events that happen next. Or maybe they’re fast and Keith just takes his time processing them, but whatever the case, Lance’s eyes move over to his, and Keith watches with growing fondness as that blue gaze lifts ever so slightly, landing on the words Shiro had helped him write not long before.

 

He can follow along as Lance reads them just by watching the expressions that come to his face.

 

Eyes widen.

 

**M-A-R-**

 

Brows lift…

 

**-R-Y**

 

Mouth drops open and cheeks begin to flush.

 

**M-E-?**

 

A barely audible gasp just manages to escape Lance’s mouth before his hand is clamping over it. But Keith hears it, and it brings warmth to his soul that Hunk perfectly articulates with a coo of elation.  

 

And he’s sure there’s background noise that follows. He can see Hunk’s mouth moving, and Pidge cheering something beside Lance. And there’s a low murmur that he knows to be Shiro coming from his right. But Keith doesn’t hear any of it after that gasp.

 

His pulse is all-encompassing, raging in his ears as he holds Lance’s gaze when it drops down from his forehead. But that’s nothing new. Whenever he stares into Lance’s eyes there’s hardly any sounds outside of their own. It’s a safe-haven: a place he can retreat when everything becomes too loud. He could stay there for hours if he could - has tried on multiple occasions - but eventually one of them has to blink.

 

This time it’s Lance to go first, but when he does a tear trickles down over his cheek, and just like that the moment shifts, and the noise comes rushing back in.

 

“Oh-” Hunk pauses in his celebration.

 

“Dude!” Pidge yelps as she watches the table grow speckled with circular drops.

 

“Go,” Shiro whispers over, and Keith grins as he stands and shimmies his way around the table, never taking his eyes off Lance, who follows his every movement, shifting in his seat as Keith approaches before slowly taking his hand away from his mouth.

 

“Are you-” he chokes, expression both disbelieving and awed, but he cuts off as Keith stops before him to get down on one knee, reaching out for so their hands are clasped. “Keith-!”

 

“Lance,” Keith answers, cheeks hurting from the grin that’s refusing to fade. “I really love you.”

 

A garbled laugh, and more tears spill over.

 

“I love you too!”

 

“And I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me,” Keith goes on, and Lance squeezes their fingers tight.

 

“So _forever_ then,” he giggles, wiping his cheeks with his shoulder, blue marks beneath his eyes glowing faintly. Keith shuffles closer, taking the ring from the box and holding it up for Lance to see.

 

“Then, can I marry you?”

 

Lance snorts, and Hunk is crying almost as hard beside him. Pidge, who’d been filming the whole thing, kicks lightly at Keith’s leg.

 

“That’s not it at all!” she hisses, and Keith tries again.

 

“ _May_ I marry you?”

 

Lance is laughing uncontrollably now, and Shiro rolls his eyes as Pidge makes a sound of disbelief.

 

But Keith doesn’t pay them any mind. He’s caught in Lance’s smile, and the heat in his hands, and the flush painting his ears dark burgundy. He stares shamelessly, and wonders how he’d lived so long without Lance’s light in his life like this. Without his boundless love.

 

 _Now I can though,_ he thinks with glee. _For as long as he lets me._  

 

“Yes,” Lance answers at last, voice whispery and tender. One hand slips from Keith’s grasp to brush over his cheek, and Keith leans into as Lance beams down at him like the starlight he is. “But only if I can marry you.”

 

“Deal,” Keith agrees immediately, standing as the others celebrate around them. He pulls Lance up to his feet, and before the boy can find his footing he pulls him into a tight embrace, resting his face in the curve of Lance’s neck as his own tears threaten to expose the overbearing emotions within. He’s happy, to put it mildly. He’s euphoric, to put it less so.

 

And he knows he’ll stay within that range so long as he’s with Lance.  

 

“Oh my god you guys I’m _bawling!”_ Hunk confesses, and joins in on the hug not long after.

 

“Hey, don’t impose on their special moment!” Pidge scolds, but she’s pulled in by Shiro as his own arms wrap around them.

 

“They can have their own special moments later,” he explains, and Keith laughs at the sound of disgust Pidge makes as she puts two and two together.

 

Lance’s giggles echo in Keith’s ears, and he presses closer as that happiness glows bright within him: the fire in his core ignited with a promise of permanent tending as Lance pulls back just enough to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. To the words with the question he’d asked.

 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Lance murmurs so only they can hear.

 

“I hope you always think that,” Keith hums back, clasping the ring in his palm tightly.

 

“And why wouldn’t I?” Lance asks, sounding genuinely intrigued as he glances down to where Keith is in the process of sliding the sparkling band over his ring finger. It fits perfectly, and settles in as if it belonged there all along.

 

Keith takes a moment to simply gape at it, the implications of the situation hitting him like a pillow of the softest feathers. It’s not hard. Or jarring. It simply wakes him up to the new possibilities, and floods him with plans for the future they can now share.

 

Because he’s marrying Lance.

 

He’s _marrying Lance!_

 

The smile comes back to his lips with enthusiasm, and Keith steals a quick kiss as the group hug tightens.

 

“Because,” he whispers back, feeling giddy and bubbly and drunk off Lance as he points to his forehead. “I think we used a permanent marker.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lance wakes some time in the night, body stiff and aching, but he smiles sheepishly as he recalls as to why. Beside him Keith is passed out: collapsed on his stomach and drooling on his pillow with an ease that took years to establish. He hadn’t stopped grinning since pulling that stunt with his forehead, and Lance bites his lower lip as he thinks back on the whole proposal fiasco that had gone down a few hours prior.

 

It was such a Keith move too. So dopey and adorable and just absolutely perfectly him.

 

 _Perfectly them,_ he thinks as he tucks a stray strand of hair away from Keith’s face. His cheeks are rosy and dimpled from remnant blissful beaming, which Lance finds altogether too cute to be possible, and he’s almost relecuant to get up to retrieve the water his body is so desperately calling for lest he miss even a single second of Keith in this state.

 

But eventually dehydrations wins out, and Lance stumbles his way over to the bathroom with cup in hand. He doesn’t bother turning on the light - both because he knows the layout by heart and because he’s a tad nervous to see the canvas of kiss marks Keith had left on his body, almost as if he were painting a replica of the constellations above. He traces his fingertips over each new decoration, knowing where they are by memory.

 

Keith’s lips on his skin isn’t something easily forgotten, and Lance shivers as phantom touches trail over his arms, across his torso and down, down-

 

He gasps, the cup having overfilled and pouring cold water over his hands, and he brings it to his lips with a knowing smirk.

 

 _Typical Keith and his greedy mouth. He just has to let everyone know what’s his._ But Lance isn’t mad. In fact he’s almost jealous, and makes a note to leave one or two of his own signatures come morning.  

 

He re-fills the cup to bring back to bed, knowing Keith will be complaining of a dry throat when the sun wakes them, and shivers again as the chill of the room settles over him. He eagerly returns to the blankets, and cozies up to Keith with a contented sigh as warmth radiates back into his bones.

 

His beloved - his _fiancé,_ Lance corrects - mumbles something in his sleep, and an arm reaches out to wrap snugly around Lance’s middle, hand brushing up and down his side where the goosebumps retreat.

 

“Hey,” Lance hears: Keith’s voice sleep soaked and heavy. “You okay?”

 

 _Better than okay,_ Lance thinks, returning the embrace with an arm of his own. He cozies up closer, and Keith lifts his head just enough to rest comfortably on Lance’s shoulder.

 

“Go back to sleep,” he coos, and Keith doesn’t need convincing. He smiles - brows tilting upward as the expression of lethargic joy makes itself known - and Lance melts at the sight.

 

“I love you,” he manages to get out before sleep takes him again, and Lance sighs contently as Keith’s breathing resumes it’s even pace.

 

He reaches up with his free hand, pushing the hair away from Keith’s face, and pauses as something on his finger catches the dim moonlight peeking in from the window. It’s another decoration Keith had left him with, though this one has a tad more permanence than the rest.

 

It’s a gorgeous ring, heartfelt and precious, just like the man laying beside him, and Lance feels something in his chest swell as he watches it catch the light, reflecting tiny specks of colour over the sheets.

 

It reminds him of the stars, but then, everything about Keith reminds him of the stars, and Lance wonders if perhaps it is his destiny to forever love the children born of space. It’s a comforting thought, and he stifles a giggle as his fingers play with the bangs hiding Keith’s forehead, pushing them back just enough to see the words still as bold and impactful as they were when Lance first read them.

 

**MARRY ME?**

 

 _Of course I will,_ he answers silently as his heart sings. _How could I not?_

 

Exhaustion sweeps back into his veins, and Lance exhales deeply before pressing a lingering kiss over the words, almost hoping they never fade away. He’ll be sad to see them go, but he supposes it’s the ring that’s meant to last.

 

Well, that and their undying love, but still. Lance will miss the letters that only Keith would be brazen enough to write in Sharpie.

 

 _God I love him,_ he thinks as his eyes close, and just before he slips into dreams, he whispers the words out loud, for anyone to hear, or maybe no one at all.

 

“I love you Keith Kogane. Like the flowers love the sun.”

 

He sleeps, and outside the sky dances in shades of purple light, colouring the world in splendid lavender hues before they’re forced to fade with the coming dawn. And the galaxies above are mirrored by a scattering of pink flowers in the field: petals closed in the dark with leaves bundled tight.

 

All are asleep, save for two, who remained open as the sun set and the world grew cold. Two flowers, together in haze of pink, who dared to keep their petals open, wondering what the sky looked like without their main light above.

 

The stars, they agree, are worth staying up for, just as the sun is worth waking to, and as they sway gently in a passing breeze, they vow to never close their petals again, lest they miss something as wonderful as the colours dancing above.

 

The night continues, and the flowers stay open.


End file.
